Flames
by fourtris and bones and ghosts
Summary: "My parents have always taught me selflessness and bravery, kindness, honesty, and intelligence. They are good people. I cannot say the same for myself, because no matter how hard I try, I am selfish, fearful, greedy and untruthful. I am human." What will happen when Tris is dragged from her beloved city into the freezing Chicago, and made to start a new life? Will there be love?
1. Chapter 1

**Hi everyone! It's me again, and I know you're probably pissed at me for leaving the other story, I just wanted to say sorry. I'm going to try to improve my writing a lot in this fanfiction, but if you really want me to go back to "New School, New Memories, New Life", then I can possibly wrap it up. Thanks, love you all.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Divergent, Veronica Roth does, but that's pretty obvious. Enjoy!**

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 _Do not go gentle into that good night,  
Old age shall burn and rave at close of day;  
Rage, rage, against the dying of the light._

 _-Dylan Thomas._

 _xxx_

 **Tris.**

Grey. It is the color embedded in the clouds on a stormy day. It is the color of most of the clothes I wear. It is the color of my eyes. My plain, dull, abnormally large eyes. I observe my reflection in the mirror with distaste. Grey sweater, black jeans, black boots. It is what I usually wore when I lived in New York. I used to think it was a place where no matter what age, gender or appearance you have, you are accepted. Well, it looks like the city accepted everyone, everyone except me, Beatrice Prior.

I know, I know, horrid name. People were happy to call me 'Bea' in the city, but new place new name. New social status as well, hopefully. I was what most people would call an outcast, in New York. The quiet girl with the grey eyes and the friend who committed suicide. His name was Al. I don't speak of Al.

My mother and father dragged me here because they thought I was unhappy. Well no shit Sherlock, anyone with _eyes_ could see that. They are currently downstairs in the kitchen of our very boring house that is stationed in the very un-exciting suburbs of Chicago. My mother, Natalie Prior, volunteered in a project that provides food for the homeless. Andrew Prior, my father, is a councilman. Throughout my life they have taught me selflessness and bravery, kindness, honesty, and intelligence. They are good people, my parents. I cannot say the same for myself, because no matter how hard I try, I am selfish, fearful, greedy and untruthful. I am human.

My brother's name is Caleb. 10 months is the age gap between us, but he acts like it is 3 years. Caleb is vein and superior, but selflessness still manages to shine through those negatives characteristics. We are so different in practically every way, he focuses on school, I, although being quite smart, have never managed to concentrate for more than 5 minutes. His eyes are shocking green, his hair a light brown, his skin a little tanned. I have grey eyes, blonde shoulder-length hair and very pale skin. Caleb definitely got the good genes, I see a lot of girls eyeing him. Unfortunately for me, no boys have ever shown any interest in me.

"Beatrice!" The singles word called out by my father echoes through the quiet house, his warm voice bringing me downstairs after one last look in the mirror. I don't put on makeup, I mean what's the point? It's not going to make me pretty. On the way to my father I tie my hair up in a low pony tail, strands of dirty blonde hair falling loose from the front, framing my face.

"Good morning," I greet my family. I get a chorus of 'hello's and 'good morning's back. My mother walks swiftly over to me and wraps her arms around my small frame. I return the hug. My father kisses me on my forehead and hands me a blueberry muffin. Caleb slings an arm around my shoulders, already munching on his muffin while reading a big, leather-bound book.

"Morning Bea," He mumbles while grabbing his car keys off the dining table. "C'mon, gotta go. First day of school!"

Great. My nerves are making my hands sweat, so I swipe them down my jeans quickly, say a quick 'bye' to my parents and follow Caleb out to his beloved car that I call the Blueberry. I mean, as far as similarities go, this car and an actual blueberry are like twins. The car is round and small and curvy... oh and a _very bright blue._ I cringe and jump into the passenger side, hunching down in my seat.

"Can't you get a normal colored car?" I ask my brother as he starts up the Blueberry. As it purrs to life, Caleb laughs.

"Bea, what's the point of a normal car!?" He grins and pulls out onto the road. I roll my eyes.

"How do you even know how to get to school?" The realization only struck me then, we've never been here before.

"When we first moved in and when you went up to your room I drove around." Caleb says. Of course he did. My brother, the over-achiever, the smart one, already knows his way around. Already fits in. How the hell am I going to go making friends?

Before I could stress about anything else, Caleb pulls into a parking space outside a massive building surrounded by green grass. There is a grand sign across the crowded doorway which reads 'Chicago High.' I bite my lip and watch the students milling around the parking lot. They're like freakin' _animals_. The athletes running around, smashing into each other, the bookworms sitting quietly, trying to avoid being the prey of the dolled up bitches. Classic high school scene. I close my eyes and groan.

A door slams to my left, making me jump. Caleb has eagerly jumped out of the Blueberry and is waiting for me. I tuck the loose strands of hair behind my ear, straiten up my knitted sweater, and step out onto the asphalt.

The cold hits me like a truck and I shiver. Noise from the students threatens to overwhelm me and I almost get back in the Blueberry, but my stupid brother has already locked his stupid car and is running off to find his first stupid class. I follow behind grudgingly and try to ignore the hungry stares from majority of the people in the car park. I'm just more prey for the lions. I sigh.

Inside the school building is even colder. I feel a slice of anger run through me. _Why would my mother and father choose to enroll me in a new school just before Thanksgiving?_ They say they want to be here in Chicago for Christmas. Great. It still makes no sense.

I reach the administration office using complex signs that are stationed all around the building. By the time I get to the dark-haired lady at behind the front desk I am in a foul mood.

"Hi I'm Beatrice Prior. Can I get my timetable?" I mumble, trying to still be kind and polite.

"Hello Beatrice, here it is. I'm Tori Wu." Tori hands me a sheet of paper and smiles, "Just call me Tori though. Oh and your locker number is 460 and the combination number is in the top right corner of your timetable."

I flash her a quick smile and turn to leave, thanking her on my way out the door. The hallway is packed with cake-faced girls and arrogant boys, some yelling, some throwing footballs. I stick to the wall of lockers and push my way to number 460. Just as I am getting near it, someone's foot catches mine and I stumble, almost tripping over myself. I am stopped by running face-first into someone's back. By the feel of their masculine figure and the smell of their cologne, I'm guessing it's a boy I ran into. Excellent.

"Watch it!" The guy exclaims, whirling around to face me. I am about to retort to his rudeness with some of my own, when I get a good look at his face. And _holy shit_ , he is handsome. Deep blue eyes, the color of the ocean with a speck of light blue next to his pupil. Dark brown hair and eyebrows. Tanned skin wired with lean muscles. Good Lord.

"Sorry," I mutter, tearing my eyes away from his face and body.

"Forget it. What's a freshmen doing here?" His voice is low and smooth... he's probably a good singer. Then I realize what he said.

"I'm a junior!" I say, offended. Obviously I'm short and petite and I look like a bird, but I'm not that small!

The gorgeous boy raises his eyebrows, "Oh. Well sorry. What's your name?"

I pause. What is my name? 'Beatrice' died when Al did, and 'Bea' just doesn't fit the person I've become. What do I say, what do I say, what do I say, what do-

"Is it a hard one or something?" The guy I bashed into asks, a smile quirking up the corners of his perfect lips.

"Tris." I blurt. Tris? That's new. That's _good_. I mentally applaud myself for my quick-thinking.

"Well Tris," He says, "Welcome to Chicago High."

And that was it. The gorgeous boy with the blue eyes walks away from me without another word, and I find myself standing shell-shocked in front of my locker until the bell chimes, breaking me out of my reverie.

Tris Prior. I like it. Maybe I'll find some confidence within myself here in Chicago. As I head off to my first class, I replay my meeting with the gorgeous blue-eyed boy, and hope I get to see him again, find out his name.

After all, Tris Prior can do anything.

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 **Hello, hello!**

 **Please leave reviews and suggestions, I will only continue this story if people ask me to.  
Hope you enjoyed, I love you all!**

 **Fourtrisandbonesandghosts xx**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey, it's me again :)  
Okay so I'll make this short but I need someone to proofread my chapters before I actually update them sooo, any offers? **

**Disclaimer; Veronica Roth owns the characters I only own the plot and I do not own some of the phrases I use as they have come out of the book, but I'm sure you can pick them out. :)**

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 _Pleasant summer over_  
 _And all the summer flowers,_  
 _The red fire blazes,_  
 _The grey smoke towers._

 _-Robert Louis Stevenson_

 _xxx_

Four.

"Watch it!" I exclaim as someone thuds into my back. This Monday is already going terrible. I turn around to glare at whoever was idiotic enough to run smack bang into me, and am faced with a short blonde girl. The top of her head only comes up to my chest, _must be a freshmen_. My breath hitches when our eyes meet. The girl's eyes are grey, like dark clouds before a storm. They are framed with jet black lashes which only enhance the strange color of her irises. I observe her as she observes me. Her skin is pale, as is her hair, and although she is petite she stands with confidence. The girl's eyebrows are dark and slender and furrowed and her lips turn down naturally, like mine. But once again I am drawn up to her eyes. They are so stern, so insistent. Beautiful.

I am snapped to attention when she mutters, "Sorry."

Her voice is low, so unlike many of the girls nowadays.

"Forget it. What's a freshmen doing here?" I ask, referring to the Junior and Senior's section of the school. I straightaway regret saying anything because her eyes narrow and her tone immediately becomes defensive.

"I'm a junior!" The girl's exclamation takes me by surprise.

"Oh. Well, sorry. What's your name?" She opens her mouth to speak, and then hesitates and bites her lip. I find myself watching her chew gently on her bottom lip before I realize I'm staring.

"Is it a hard one or something?" I smirk at her.

A pinkish tint creeps up onto her cheeks and she blurts out, "Tris!"

"Well Tris," I say, trying her name out on my tongue. I like it. "Welcome to Chicago high."

As I turn away from her, I catch the slightest smile turning up the corners of her mouth.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" My best friend's voice startles me and I drag my eyes away from her face. Zeke stands in front of me, wearing his infamous smirk. I glare at him and continue walking. He trots after me.

"Who is that? Is she new? She's hot!" I whirl around, stopping short in front of him. He runs into my crossed arms and I raise my eyebrows.

"Shut it Zeke." I tell him.

"Four I have never seen you look at a girl like that. What grade's she in?" Zeke continues questioning me, but all I hear ringing in my head is his first sentence. _I have never seen you look at a girl like that._ Was it too obvious that I instantly took a liking to her? I need to be more careful.

"Dude. I can tell you like her, what grade's she in?" At that I snap out of my thoughts and answer him.

"It was nothing. Just forget it."

But Zeke persists, "That was not nothing. What bloody grade is she in?"

I furrow my eyebrows and mumble, "She's a junior."

He laughs and claps his hands. I roll my eyes and walk off, navigating my way through the sea of warm bodies with that grey-eyed girl still on my mind.

 **pagebreak**

My first class comes and goes. An hour of sitting next to Zeke's chatty girlfriend Shauna, and listening to Mrs Matthews drone on about science has worn me out and I am grumpy buy second period. I walk into chemistry and take my normal seat on the right side of the bench in the back corner of the class. My normal partner, Nita, is away today. Thank God.

It is straight after I have that thought when I see her, standing eagerly at the front of the class chatting to Mr Phillips, our teacher. He nods and gestures towards the back of the room. Towards me? Tris follows Mr Phillips' directions and ends up seated next to me, her eyes bright.

"Hi. Uh, I ran into you this morning I don't know if you remember me?" She laughs nervously and blushes. She doesn't know if I remember her? How could I ever forget!

"Yeah, I remember." A thought strikes me, "If you're a Junior, why are you in Senior Chemistry?"

Tris raises a slender eyebrow and the corners of her lips curl up. "I'm good at chemistry."

A moment of silence passes between us, but it is not awkward, it's just lost in each other's eyes.

"So Mr Phillips said your name was Four?" She questions.

"Yeah, and if I remember correctly yours is Tris?" I grin at her and she nods her head.

"Yup that's me," Tris grins sheepishly, "I'm guessing Four is a nickname?"

"Uh yeah it is." I say shortly, trying to steer the conversation away from my personal life. However to my dismay, Tris persists.

"Where'd you get it from?"

I shrug. She's very stubborn, I note.

"Is there any meaning behind it?" Her soft voice makes me snap.

"Look I don't want to talk about it okay? What makes a Junior like you think you can ask me those things?" As soon as I finish my sentence I instantly regret it. Tris flinches away from me and bites her lip, a crease forming between her brows. Her stormy, gentle eyes turn hard.

"I don't know. Maybe it's because you're so approachable, you know, like a bed of nails." She hisses at me.

I scowl and speak in a low voice, "Careful Tris."

Our eyes clash, gray against blue. Neither of us break our stare until Mr Phillips calls the class to attention. Tris turns to the front of the room and spends the whole period glaring at the board, scribbling down notes. I try to do the same, but I can't help sneaking glances at the beautiful, quick-tempered girl next to me. When the bell's obnoxious chime rings through the classroom, I turn to Tris, determined to apologize, but she is already furiously stuffing books into her bag. She gives me one quick glance and disappears, leaving me shell-shocked. I wearily rub my face and slowly pack up, heading to lunch.

The halls are packed as always, but because I am taller than most students my claustrophobia doesn't take effect in the mess of flailing arms and legs. The fear comes from my childhood punishments, from the small closet I was continuously locked in whenever my father got angry. He got angry a lot.

I banish the thought from my head and squeeze through the crowded cafeteria door, instantly spotting my group of friends. My eyes flit around the group, seeing who's there. _Zeke and Shauna_ , yep. _Will, Uriah and Marlene,_ yes. _Christina..._ and Tris!? As soon as I see her blonde head my steps falter and her dark eyes snap up to meet mine. My breath immediately hitches. The effect she has on me...

"Four!" Zeke spots me and waves me over. I trudge to the table and sit down. Unfortunately my seat is right next to Tris, but I swallow my pride and meet her fiery gaze.

"I believe you two know each other?" Zeke continues. Tris nods once and breaks my stare, turning to a tall, mocha-skinned girl named Christina who sits across from us. One of Chris' eyebrows is raised as she gives Tris a questioning look, to which she ignores.

"Anyway, we were just introducing ourselves to her." Shauna blurts out, sensing the tension. "We got up to Uriah."

She motions to a Junior sitting next to Christina. He is practically a miniature version of Zeke, same olive skin, brown curls, gold-brown eyes. The brothers also share a certain determination to cause chaos. I've known them both since Zeke and I were 12 and Uriah was 10. Longest 6 years of my life.

"This is Marlene, Uriah's girlfriend." Shauna says, gesturing to a girl with bright blonde hair and a broad smile. I only met Marlene at the start of this year as she moved here from California. She tends to make everyone like her instantly, and this is only proven when Tris gives her a warm, brilliant smile.

"And last but not least this is Will." Tris' eyes flick to a tall boy with light brown hair. She grins and he smiles back. I instantly feel an unpleasant surge of jealousy run through my veins. It is all I can do to not put my arm around Tris and pull her to me.

"You already know Christina and Four, so welcome to our group." Shauna finishes, smiling at Tris, and at once conversations ripple out through the table. I turn to Tris who is animatedly chatting to Uriah about New York. She gives me an irritated glance after I tap her on the shoulder, but I persist and whisper something in her ear.

"Can I talk to you?" I say.

Tris smiles warmly at Uriah, "I'll be right back." She says.

Rising from my seat with the petite girl that has sparked my interest right behind me, I walk out of the cafeteria. The halls aren't as packed full of people, but I still lead Tris to a quiet spot next to a janitor's closet.

"Tris," I start, but she cuts me off.

"Four, if you're going to apologize, forget it. I don't care that you snapped and it's partly my fault anyway. I shouldn't have pushed it." She says in a rush. I observe her face, pure and innocent, and decide she's being honest. I remember when I dated a girl named Lauren, and she would make my smallest mistake into something drastic. So much money was spent on giant teddies and roses to get her to forgive me. But Tris... she is like a breath of fresh air.

"Four?" Her velvety voice snaps me out of my reverie and I realize I've been staring.

"What? Oh, no Tris it wasn't your fault, I'm sorry." I say. Tris smiles and something stirs inside of me.

"I'm gonna, you know, go and eat." She stutters, motioning back in the direction of the cafeteria. I nod and follow her.

God, I am so screwed.

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